


songs of bygone days

by handbagmarinara



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Historical Inaccuracy, It gets interesting soon i swear, Love at First Sight, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-26 07:27:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9873311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/handbagmarinara/pseuds/handbagmarinara
Summary: Tsukishima looked like the people Kageyama saw painted onto canvas, up inside mansions, talking fluently in a language Kageyama himself has yet to perfect.orA geisha AU. Sort of.





	1. MEETING

**Author's Note:**

> I did research on this, but when it comes to accuracy, I only have Wikipedia and various internet sites to support my claims. Take most of the historic pieces like a grain of salt as I am no historian whatsoever. Just a writer with a lot of feelings.
> 
> You can say this was inspired by Memoirs of a Geisha.
> 
> Title is the famous Nakahara Chuuya's poem collection (Arishi Hi no Uta).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is more of an introduction for everything to fall into place, though still relevant to the story as a whole. I hope you all enjoy!

 

1949, Gion

Tobio can still remember what the streets of Kyoto looked like before the war: Their roads were smooth, and many a great buildings, like the theatre, stood proud to show everyone that the district of Gion was more than just sin and promiscuity. Nijo castle was built at the highest mountain, overlooking most of everything. The fly market was the greatest place to find fresh catch. It was a long ways away from the okiya, but Tobio never found it a bother, not when he had a mother’s hand to hold the entire time. There was also the great Yasaka temple, just a few minutes south of their okiya, where his family used to visit every Christmas, asking the gods for happiness and luck.

  
Growing up in a geisha house, Tobio had been surrounded by beautiful women who, in the morning, would play with him in the gardens, and in the evening, became geisha, leaving bright, red kiss marks on his forehead when they left for work. The Kageyama okiya was the most well-known back then. They had three very famous geisha, and one _maiko_ growing in popularity— Tobio’s own sister, Kiyoko.

  
Kiyoko would teach him everything she learned in geisha school as she trained. It was because of her Tobio learned how to properly serve tea (much to their Mother’s delight), and how to play the _shamisen_ (which the geisha of the okiya loved to listen him play when they weren’t on the job). Tobio was close to one geisha in particular: Saeko. She would always lounge about in his room when she wasn’t out training and doing errands, sitting like a man and eating her own weight, laughing so loudly it almost seemed she was never trained to hide her grin behind her hand fan. She taught him a few dances— it was more her practicing for an upcoming performance, he knew, but being cooped up in the okiya, and never having the chance to be given an education, everything is learning to him.

  
Saeko was the opposite of what a geisha should be: A geisha is expected to be petite and shy, or singing softly than in the out of tune way she does shen she’s cooking up a meal. But whenever Mother would get a call asking for Saeko to host a banquet, she was a changed woman, beautiful as she brushes rogue onto her lips and walks out the door with the grace of a full-fledged geisha.

  
Tobio missed her dearly, ever since she left when he was sixteen, her bags filled to the brim as were her eyes with tears as she hugged him, Kiyoko, and Mother one last time, and held the hand of her _danna_ , never to be seen again.

  
Tobio was now twenty-three, Kiyoko twenty-five, their mother long gone and dad way before. Tobio managed the okiya until his fingers go numb from writing every yen spent, until every bone in his body ached. He learned how to dress the girls into their kimonos, how to perfect their make-up, all the while keeping the okiya running and business booming. Kiyoko was now a geisha, the most famous one before and after the World War. The okiya’s former geisha had fled to the pleasure districts, being practical when money was scarce, as the streets of these districts were swarmed with Americans willing to pay. Geisha was, back when the country was first invaded by the foreigners, overpowered by the _yuujo_ , and Tobio feared the worse for the business, their only source of income. But God was good, and as Japanese men and American men settled down and became comrades, the Japanese culture fascinated the foreigners, and geisha were highly of demand.

  
It had been hard at first, after that, as Kiyoko was the only geisha the okiya had, but with the increase of demands, and the need of families to get by, some sold their daughters to the still-standing okiyas in the neighborhood. But Tobio was meticulous, and out of the twenty or so he was offered, he only chose one: A girl named Hitoka from a village way too far away from Gion, who was frightened to death at the prospect of being left behind in a place she had no knowledge of. Kiyoko— _bless_ her, was there to be the source of the girl's comfort, and it didn’t take long for Hitoka to find her bearings. She was now a _mizuage_ away from being a geisha herself, and with Hinata, and other maids to help around the house, Tobio was nothing but absolutely grateful.

 

 

 

 

 

  
  
“Yamayama-kun.” Hinata whined, plucking childishky at the taut strings of the instrument in his arms, “I can’t get the hang of it! You suck at explaining!”

  
Teaching Hinata the _shamisen_ was hard, what with the smaller's fingers being unaccustomed to being dexterous. He wasn’t supposed to be teaching in the first place; Hinata barged into the room while Tobio was tuning the instrument and demanded he be taught. Which, obviously wasn’t going really well.

  
“Oi. Is this the thanks I get for giving you a roof under you and your sister’s head?”

  
“I never asked for your help!”

 

 

 

 

 

  
_This…this complete_ stranger _had a death grip on his forearm, Natsu hanging on his back like she’d known him for years._

  
_“You almost got killed.” The raven-haired man spoke, finally, voice distant. "You almost_  died _._ "

  
_“I didn’t need your help!” Hinata argued, trying to pry of this man’s grip, “I could’ve saved myself back there!”_

  
_“Would you have saved your sister, too?! One, or…or the both of you!” The taller shouted, stopping dead in his tracks to turn and look at Hinata in the eye, “If you died how would your sister live? If she died, could_ you _live with yourself? Those foreigners were going to shoot you, no hesitation. If I hadn’t intervened—”_

  
_He doesn’t finish, opting to hike Natsu higher up his back. He released Hinata’s forearm, and with a solemn voice, said, “The house I live in is an okiya. It’s big enough for two other heads to shelter. If you’re worrying I’m going to take your sister in to train her, you’re dead wrong. The offer does stand, if you want to.”_

  
_He turned his back to Hinata and moved forward, knowing Hinata would follow anyway._

  
_“How did you know? How did you know they’d actually pull the trigger?”_

  
_The kind stranger raised a hand to soothe Natsu’s unruly bed of hair, the little one dozing off on his shoulder. “Because they did the same thing to my mother.”_

 

 

 

 

 

  
“Yeah, _right_.” Tobio scoffed, playing a song on the instrument without even looking, “I am glad I did anyway.”

  
“Yeah. I’m glad you did, too.” Hinata replied, a soft smile on his lips.

  
“Stop that, you’re creeping me out.”

  
“We were having a moment there!”

  
The telephone started to ring then, together with their laughter. Footsteps echoed into the small practice room, until Michimiya, a relatively new housemaid slid the door open. “Sorry for interrupting, but someone from Tachibana Teahouse just called, asking for Aika-san.”

  
_Aika-san._ Kiyoko’s geisha name, the _Ai_ from their mother, and the _Ka_ from their father. They both found it clever, especially since it fit her. Kiyoko was discovered for bringing the Great Baron of Kyoto to tears after she sang solo, after all.

  
“Tachibana, you say? It is most likely Nishinoya-san.” Tobio brought himself up to stand, placing the _shamisen_  in its lacquer casing, “Is Kiyoko home?”

  
“Not yet, sir. She is still with Sugawara-san. I believe they said they’d be out looking for silk. They will be back soon.”

  
“Ah, please! Tell Sugawara-san to stay when he drops her off. It’s about Hitoka’s _mizuage_ ceremony. He’d be delighted.”

  
Michimiya nods in understanding, bowing when Tobio walked past her. He fetched a kimono in the inventory, and went up to Kiyoko’s room. He laid the kimono down on the tatami mats as some elder maids helped with getting the _obi_ and a pair of _zori_. Hinata brought up a pot of tea as Tobio focused on the right colors to match everything together.

  
“You’re good at this.” Hinata whistled, amazed at the intricate pattern sewn onto the kimono, “Like, _really_ good. It would look great on Kiyoko-san for sure.”

  
“I’ve watched a great plenty of geisha come and go from this house. If I wasn’t good at this, Mother would rise from her grave to give me a few smacks on the head.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
When Kiyoko arrived later with the dresser, Sugawara Koushi, Tobio informed her immediately of Nishinoya’s request. Kiyoko is happy to hear this as Nishinoya really  _was_ her favorite patron. He was the only one who, she once said, "was decent enough to ask for my service and never once joke about wanting to take my kimono off."

Geisha were used to the crude comments from the people they host with, usually very belittling things about women and sex. Tobio is very proud Kiyoko has never used her mean left hook on any of them, because he would have, had he been there to hear any of them.

 

He led her up to her room, removing her obi and stripping her down to her under-robe. He then folded the layers of clothing Kiyoko had used, leaving them just outside the door for the maids to wash later. He gestured to the kimono set he laid out, "I picked that one out for you. The gathering is at Tachibana teahouse. Do you need help with your make-up, or do I let the maids do it instead?"

"I can do my own make-up, thank you." She giggled, kneeling down in front of her vanity mirror to check if her make-up was still intact, "Though, I'd love for you to put that gorgeous kimono on for me. Hitoka has been more than pleased to tell me how good you are at tucking and folding her robes like a pro."

"No, no. None of that. I hired Sugawara-san for a reason. He _is_ a dresser for a reason. I can never live up to that."

"You're a close second, then." His sister smiled, looking at him through the mirror. Tobio can only bow his head to hide his smile.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tobio was writing down the needed amount of money to pay for the monthly bills when the telephone rang. With a heavy sigh, slightly mad at the disturbance, he set aside his ink and answered with a grumpy "Good evening".

"Kageyama-san! It's Nishinoya."

Tobio was glad the ink was away from his flailing arms or else he would have had to re-write everything... and clean up quite a mess.

"Y-yes! Nishinoya-san, Aika is almost ready. Do you need her now? I could send her right away if—"

" _Kami_ , calm down!" Nishinoya laughed, "I was just going to say that I won't be in the teahouse as something important came up. Please do tell Aika my apologies to have left her expecting. But I do have a good friend who would be Aika's client tonight. He's a quiet one, they'd hit it off perfectly. He just came home from America so his face is new to everyone. I'd like to show him a few things he's missed back here in Nippon, you know?"

Tobio  _didn't_ know, but he made a sound of agreement anyway.

"I told him he can wait in the tea house for her, but he insisted on picking Aika up himself. Either an American custom he got, or he wants to explore."

Tobio had the phone inches away from his ear, as Nishinoya-san spoke with a voice that seemed to be wired to always sound like a shout. He was just like Hinata, and, Tobio thought with amusement, is almost the same size as his orange-haired friend.

"Alright Nishinoya-san. We'll wait for him. Thank you for telling us. Hinata would have punched him if he came over unannounced."

"I think Aika would do that for him, really." Nishinoya said with exuberance, "I must go now. You'll hear from me again soon, for sure!"

Tobio doesn't doubt it. Nishinoya _was_ one of their most loyal patrons. The okiya owed a lot to him. 

Natsu slid the door open to tell him someone was at the door, looking for Aika. He stood up and straightened his yukata, instructing Natsu to get Kiyoko as her client was waiting. The girl clambered up the stairs, feet loud against the wood, and Tobio reminded himself to ask about her training later.

He rolled the door open, the standard greeting dying on his tongue the moment his eyes met gold.

Standing in front of him was a man, clad in pressed, black trousers and a plain, light-grey long-sleeved button up. His suit jacket was folded and draped around his forearm, held close to his body. He was tall, maybe taller than Tobio himself. He had blonde hair that reminded Tobio of sand at the beach, reminded him of texture other than the silk his hands have grown used to. His eyes were honey, almost gold, beautifully so it almost seemed unnatural. The type of eyes that would kill you ten times over, burn marks into your skin, and melt with every emotion. This man did not belong here, in the dirty road under his leather shoes, and the dimly-lit streets not giving his handsome features justice. He looked like the people he saw painted onto canvas, up inside mansions, talking fluently in a language Tobio himself has yet to perfect. It took him a while to realize they'd been staring at each other far too long to be considered polite, and he squeaked in horror, bowing quickly to hide his growing blush.

"Good evening, sir. Aika will be down shortly." he greeted, in an English he hoped sounded alright. He straightened up to find the man smirking at him.

"Tsukishima Kei." he said with a voice dripping in amusement, and eyes twinkling with something Tobio can't put a finger on, "I'm Japanese."

Tobio doesn't fight the blush that spread to his cheeks, down to what he thinks is his neck. He bowed in apology, stepping aside to check if Kiyoko was on her way down. Fortunately, she was, and Tsukishima's attention was on her.

"Sir." She smiled, red lips and white face prominent even under the dim light, "Good evening."

Tobio felt a tinge of pride when he saw how beautifully the orange of the kimono clashed with Kiyoko's navy blue eyes, more so how it almost glowed out in the night. He watched as Tsukishima offered her his other elbow, guiding her out carefully to the rickshaw waiting outside. Once Kiyoko was seated, he shrugged the suit jacket on, and took his position next to the geisha. The rickshaw moves north, and, with Tsukishima's final, lingering glance at Tobio, they were gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About my use of 'danna' and 'patron': A 'danna' is a geisha's master, if you will. Patron is a regular customer, basically. In actuality, the two words hold the same meaning. but they serve two different meanings in this story. Like how Saeko has a danna who took care of her financially, and how Nishinoya is Kiyoko's patron, who only enjoys Kiyoko's company and asks for her regularly.
> 
> I know there are errors on this, but it is very late where I am. I promise to edit this later.
> 
> I would really love to know what you think of this. Do I continue, do I leave it as is? Talk to me. ✧


	2. PARK

 

Kageyama doesn’t remember agreeing to go to the marketplace with Hinata.

He doesn’t really remember much about the past week, actually, if he was going to be honest. Since his encounter with this _Tsukishima Kei_ persona, all he had his mind on was the curve of his smirk and what shade of flesh the blond’s skin tone was. _Snow. Floral white. Maybe seashell._ He had burned the eggs during breakfast, and drowned two bonsai plants for spacing out a few days prior. It was inevitable that people started to notice.

  
“What’s got you all preoccupied?” Michimiya had asked, voice teasing, after taking the watering can from his frozen hands. He blushed a nice shade of red, and swiveled on his heel, much to the amusement of the elder maids.

  
He had asked for a rest day, feeling absolutely drained by his own thoughts. He felt his shoulders grow heavy with each flash of blond, each frame of pale skin. He felt sick. So when he had agreed to join Hinata to buy their weekly food stock, he kept breating himself. Joining Hinata was never rest; It was just more work.

_His hair is…wheat. Khaki. Corn silk? His lips… Ah. I never noticed—_

  
“Kageyama-kun!” Hinata was shaking him, snapping him out of his reverie, “Are you sure you’re alright? You can sit down if you want?”

  
“I’m fine, boke.”

  
“I lost you for three minutes and you’re telling me you’re fine?!”

  
“Alright. Fine. I feel…” He drifted off, trying to fit a word to get his point across. He ended up saying he was tired, which only led to Hinata telling him to wait for him in the park.

  
“I said I’m—”

  
“I don’t care! If you’re tired, you rest.” Hinata huffed, gently pushing Kageyama towards the direction of the exit, “I just have to buy fish. I’ll look for you in the park. You better be there or I’ll beat you to a pulp!”

  
Kageyama scoffed, flicking the orange-haired male on the forehead, “I’d like to see you try.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hinata was taking _way_ too much time buying fish. Kageyama sat in silence as he watched the view in front of him; Kids running around in the grass, lovers huddled under shades of trees, a mother scolding a child while tending to his wound, cherry blossoms falling from the trees and onto the ground, some on top of the table Kageyama was leaning his elbow on. In the distance, he heard the soft ring of a bell, and as he watched the children run up to their mothers, asking for spare change, he just knew it was the shaved-ice vendor.

It sent a wave of nostalgia, of his mother and father sharing a cone, Kiyoko and him arguing about which flavor was the best. He chanced a glance at the vendor, seeing the tell-tale pink and violet syrups on the kids’ cones. Cherry and plum. There was also a new color- something blue. Blueberry or bubble gum? He told himself he had to buy a cone later, to test.

Kageyama blindly registered someone taking a seat in front of him, and, thinking it was his orange-haired friend, turned to him with a glare, a curse at the tip of his tongue ready to be said.

  
“My, what a scary face. If I knew taking this seat would make you so mad, I would have just continued on my stroll.” Just like that, the person who has been filling Kageyama’s mind is the very person sitting in front of him, seated casually like they’ve been friends for years. Kageyama knew there was a smirk on those lips, hidden behind that shaved-ice cone, “But I could never pass up an opportunity to talk to you.”

  
Kageyama watched as the blond bit at the top of the shaved-ice, tainting his lips a bright shade of pink. Kageyama wanted nothing more but to lick the syrup away, maybe tell this man he had always wanted to hold him close the moment they met, but instead he says, “That’s not how you eat that.”

  
Tsukishima chuckled, licking the sweetness from his lips, “I dropped my spoon and was too embarrassed to ask for another.”

  
Kageyama gave him a deadpan look, which only earned him a wider smirk from the blond.

  
“Ah, now you’re looking at me. Success.” Tsukishima leaned forward, his chin on his hand, resting his elbow on the table. He sighed, a small smile on his face, “You have cherry blossoms in your hair. You look absolutely stunning.”

  
Kageyama choked.

  
“You know, I never got your name, but there’s one thing I wanted to do to you the very second I saw you.” Tsukishima continued, like the person he was talking to wasn't dying of swallowing his own saliva. He pointed the shaved-ice towards Kageyama, “Want some?”

  
Kageyama wished hard for Hinata to come right this moment and whisk him away. His heart was hammering out of his rib cage, his cheeks are probably just as pink as the syrup, and this man was offering him a bite of his shaved-ice like he had not implied something to make Kageyama curious.

  
“Kageyama Tobio.” He mumbled, frowning as he looked at Tsukishima, then at the treat, then back at Tsukishima again. The blond mouthed out the syllables to the raven-haired’s name, slightly wiggling the dessert under Kageyama’s nose. Giving in, he bit at the part still left untouched, relishing how it melted under his lips and in his mouth. He nodded as thanks, licking at his lips and teeth to keep the stain to a minimum.

  
Tsukishima stayed silent, eyes boring into his own, lips still curved into a smile. This whole thing was dangerous. This unfamiliar feeling in his chest is proof of that. He had wanted to bury the feeling and keep it hidden, but this man showing up, with voice thick as honey and words just as sweet, wasn’t helping the case. What did he want? Surely, if Tsukishima’s plan was to talk to Kageyama for more time with one of their geisha, this was too much. He could have waited in the okiya where they can talk business.

  
None of this was anywhere near business-like, what with how the mention of Aika or anyone in the okiya has yet to come up, if it were to ever, and that scared him the most.

  
Could it be Tsukishima was…?

  
“What did you want to do to me?” Kageyama probed, eyes narrowed at the blond. This could be an answer to his question. He mentally patted himself in the back for being wise. Tsukishima’s eyes twinkled with delight, sitting up straight and twirling the paper cone in his hands until the part where Kageyama had bitten into was close to his mouth. Slowly he brought the cone closer, closing the gap between.

Kageyama knew exactly what that meant.

  
“That.” Tsukishima said, like it was enough of an explanation for everything, “Not the kiss I would have wanted, but an indirect kiss is a kiss no less.”

  
Kageyama can’t help but glare, his heart doing summersaults in his chest. Tsukishima has got to be joking. There’s just no way would the gods be this kind to him, make his fate _this_ perfect, “What are you getting at here?”

  
“I’m sure you know. Are you not trained to entertain?”

  
“Trained to—” It finally clicked, what Tsukishima had been trying to say all this time. Kageyama was appalled, his blood boiling, “Are you mistaking me for a _taikomochi_?”

  
“Are you not?” Tsukishima countered, raising an eyebrow.

  
“Absolutely not!” Kageyama stood up, hands shaped into fists by his side. He had them fisted so hard he can feel his own nails digging into his skin, counting to ten to stay as calm as he can. His father had taught him never to throw a punch when you’re filled with anger, and only to throw it when the other party does it first. _‘Not only will you feel less guilty for punching someone first, but it makes your punch feel stronger!’._ Boy, did Kageyama want the blond to feel this blow for days.

  
Tsukishima looked confused, genuinely so that it made Kageyama irate, “Why were you in the okiya, then? Isn’t that forbidden?”

  
Kageyama cannot deny that. Men were not allowed inside an okiya, as per tradition. It was taboo. But with the circumstances that followed after the war, Kiyoko could not be both the okiya manager and a geisha. Kageyama had bore the responsibility of manager on himself, even if it would have damaged the okiya’s reputation. Kiyoko did everything in her power to show every patron, every other okiya mother, that the geisha in Kageyama’s care are just as taken cared for, if not more, than the other geisha are. When Kiyoko started racking more customers than most, it finally shed light that no matter how many traditions have been broken, it all came down to which geisha was raised proper.

  
And though Kageyama had high regard for those in the geisha world, male or female, he did not go through all the trouble to finally be considered an okiya manager, to be carelessly called a _hokan_.

  
Through clenched teeth, feeling absolutely affronted, Kageyama sneered, “I _own_ the okiya.” He found satisfaction in the way Tsukishima’s eyes widened, his grip slackening as the shaved-ice fell to the grass.

In his peripheral vision, Kageyama could see a flash of orange coming out of the crowd in the marketplace, and though it could have been anyone, he still felt relief wash over him at the possibility of going home and away from this nightmare. He maneuvered himself out and away from the table, but a hand shot out to grasp firmly at his forearm before he could leave.

  
“Kageyama, wait.” Tsukishima sounded panicked, as he stood up to come face to face with Kageyama.

  
“Let go.” Kageyama yanked his arm away, casting a nasty glare that may have had anyone who saw it running the other direction, “You know, I thought— for a good moment there, you were the answer to all my prayers.”

  
“I can be.” Tsukishima looked lost, almost desperate, but what does Kageyama know? The man he found flawless beyond belief is actually scum. The blond let out a frustrated groan, combing his fingers through his short hair, “I’m sorry. I fucked that up. I can explain. _God_ , please let me explain.”

  
Kageyama heard the distant shout of his name. _Hinata_.

  
“I don’t think any explanation will make me feel any less offended, nor will it change my impression of you.”

  
“Please.”

  
Kageyama can hear the footsteps getting closer, seemingly oblivious of the tension. That’s Hinata for you. “You have a few seconds before I go.”

  
Tsukishima was taken aback, but when his eyes landed somewhere behind Kageyama, he must have understood that time was indeed ticking. Eyes determined and stance assertive, he stated, “I’m genuinely enamored with you, Kageyama. Ever since you opened that door.”

  
Something about the conviction in his voice struck a chord in Kageyama’s heart, kindling a flame that he was sure was already burning for gods know how long, pulling out all the air he had in his lungs. In a moment of fascination, once again struck to the bone by sweet-coated words, Kageyama breathed, “Show me.”

  
Something in Tsukishima’s eyes changed then, it was completely unwavering— _fervent_ , even, like he was sure to push this through, like a challenge he knew he was going to win. “When we meet again, I will.”

  
It brought a shiver down the smaller’s spine; nothing unpleasant, and if anything, riveting. “Am I going to have to wait for another chance encounter?”

  
“Not when I look for you every chance I get.” That smirk was back on those lips Kageyama had always wondered about. _Peach. Rose. Coral?_

  
“Kageyama-kun!” Hinata greeted, smile as wide as ever, "You look like a princess with those sakura in your hair."

Tsukishima snickered, hiding it under a fisted hand. Hinata's eyes fell to him. “Ah! Good morning, sir! Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

  
Tsukishima regarded the smallest with a knowing smile, “Definitely.”

 

 

 

 

 

  
“Kageyama-kun. Isn’t that guy from the park the person you're painting?”

  
“Urusai, Hinata.”

 

"...You still have cherry blossoms in your hair."

  
“ _Urusai_ , boke.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaah, I'm sorry this was short. I hope it was enough to keep you wanting more, though?
> 
>  _Taikomochi / Hokan_ \- A male geisha. Geisha were originally men. The more you know!
> 
> I have exams the whole week starting tomorrow, but updates would still be weekly. I mean... I hope? ✧

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been eating at me since I first thought of it.
> 
> I may update once a week. Maybe.
> 
> Kudos is nice. Comments are nicer. I'd love to talk to everyone. ♡
> 
> UPDATE: You can reach me [here](https://twitter.com/hndbgmrnr) as well now.


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